


Ten Years Later

by maskdemasque



Category: Kamen Rider Wizard
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chronic Illness, Depression, Multi, Police Procedural, Serial Killers, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2457602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maskdemasque/pseuds/maskdemasque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of the Sabbath take place ten years later, giving all of our characters ten full years to grow and change. Rinko and Kizaki, married heads of Section Zero, take on the kinds of cases too complex and far-reaching for the regular detectives to handle.</p>
<p>Chapter 1: For the last ten years, they've been chasing a serial killer who murders women with scissors and butchers their hair, the news calls him the Scissorman. And now, out of nowhere, he's resurfaced, sending them another mocking letter. But meeting with him brings them more than they ever bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Years Later

“Chief, it’s important. This is our first chance in years to get even close to the Scissorman.” The Chief had offered them both seats, but Rinko and Kizaki remained standing. Kizaki was pacing back and forth in front of the desk, and Rinko leaned on the seat in front of her, frowning.

The Chief waved a hand, swiveling his chair to the side. “It’s got to be a trick. I’m not going to authorize a task force for a prank.”

Kizaki frowned. “It’s definitely from him. We never released details about the letters.”

“Yes, but there’s no guarantee he will actually be there. Why, after all these years, would a wanted man return to Tokyo only to call you out to arrest him?” He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“If you could just spare us a few officers, just for a night. If he doesn’t show, I promise we’ll make it up to you. Even if you don’t believe us, you owe Section Zero your faith for all we’ve done for the rest of the precinct.” Rinko pulled her hair back nervously, meeting the Chief of Police’s eyes with intensity.

Kizaki stopped pacing for a moment. “Sir, even if he’s just on a power trip, he has to come in sightline to verify that we are still chasing him. The more officers we have around, the more likely we are to get him, no matter how careful he is.”

“So you’re just going to stop everyone in the area and ask them if they’re a notorious serial killer? Absolutely not.”

The detectives exchanged a look. Rinko cleared her throat, looking more stubborn and nervous by the second.

The Chief gave her a suspicious glare. “So you still think it’s that hairdresser?”

Rinko’s voice was authoritative on the matter. “Sora Takigawa’s disappearance coincided with the end of the women’s disappearances in the area, and we were closing in on him at the time. I’m positive that he-”

“Ridiculous. Take a small task force, but if it’s a prank, you two owe me weekends for the rest of the month.” He signed off on the paper with a penstroke that grinded against the desk’s surface.

“We’re taking guns, too!” Rinko said, snatching up the paper.

“Fine!” grumbled the Chief.

Kizaki groaned as they quit the room, leaning up against the door. “This had better be worth it. Noriko will be heartbroken if it doesn’t pan out.”

“It’ll pan out, don’t you worry.” Rinko stalked off down the hallway, her flats clicking hard against the hallway. “I’m tired of Takigawa screwing with us.”

Kizaki jogged up behind her, “I put my weight behind this because I believe you, Rinko. You’ve always had a better handle on his movements than I ever did. But I-”

“I know what you think about this.” Rinko said, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she spoke to him. “But the way I’m handling this situation is the reason that we have this chance at all. If I didn’t continue to be an attractive target, he would ignore us altogether. He ran because he knew we were close. He ran because he knew we had him. I don’t know why he’s back, but I’m going to get him this time.”

“And then you’ll cut your hair,” Kizaki prompted.

Rinko smiled, nodding sweetly at him. “Yes, Macchan. Then I’ll cut my hair.” She kissed him, quickly, glancing around them more out of habit than anything. They weren’t superior and inferior dating against regulations anymore. Now they were the married couple that jointly ran Section Zero.

Kizaki groaned, “I told you not to call me Macchan at work.”

“Sorry, Macchan~” Rinko sang, fluttering the requisition form at him and skipping off. He shook his head and followed, mentally listing out the officers he wanted for the task force. He watched his wife’s long dark hair flow behind her as she moved and felt the lump in his throat rise up again. They’d had fights over that hair. But she’d sworn an oath not to cut it short again until the Scissorman was caught. He hoped and prayed that it would be soon.

 

Six months earlier…

The shop was closed for the night, but that didn’t matter much since the owner lived there. The rain was pouring down in the dark as a man and a woman looked up at the lights on the second floor of the building. The man, taller and skinnier, was soaked to the bone. His fashionable jacket was scuffed, the leather dark with water. His hair hung in his eyes as he licked rainwater off his lips and held an inside out 300-yen train station umbrella over the woman. “I’m sorry.” he whispered, for the hundredth time.

She sighed, giving him a warm and exasperated smile and shaking her head gently. “Haruto.” Her face was youthful, much less drawn than his. Her hair, damp as it was, was long and slightly curled. She wore a full and elegant skirt in a dark brown, the sleeves of her blouse were white and dripping.

He turned to her, the expression on his face weary and sad. He gave her a game smile, shaking some of the water out of his hair. “Koyomi,” he murmured, “I’m really sorry about all this.”

“It’s okay, Haruto.” She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. Both of their hands were ice cold. “Maybe he can help. You’re working so hard. You deserve some help.”

Haruto swallowed and nodded, eyelashes dewed with rain as he looked at her. He wasn’t entirely sure he deserved anything, but it was such a relief to finally have someone to tell him that. He squared his shoulders, and finally knocked on the door.

 

The task force was briefed by six, and out the door by seven-thirty. The sun was already below the horizon when they took their positions. Rinko and Kizaki had guns, as did the three officers they deemed the best at sharpshooting.

“Keep an eye on the perimeter, everybody. Don’t let civilians see you with guns out and try not to look like cops. I’m talking to you, Nakahata.” There was a rumble of laughter. “Okay, fan out.” The other police officers spread out under the canopy of trees that made up the large municipal park where the Scissorman said he’d meet them.

Kizaki, however, stayed by his wife’s side. Her keen eyes scanned entrance of the forest, though she had no doubt that he was surely already there. Hiding, somewhere. She flicked a lock of hair behind her ear. “He’s going to come,” she murmured, low.

Kizaki’s fingers tightened around the handle of his gun. “Don’t do anything stupid, Rinko.”

She shook her head. “I need to get him, Masa. I need him to be off the streets, I need him to be-”

He interrupted, “I know.” The continuation of her interrupted words echoed in his head. He wanted Takigawa dead, too. The man’s presence in the world, in their life, was a dangerous source of conflict. The two of them were both intent on taking him down, but Rinko moreso than him. And her all-consuming desire to stop him was growing more and more terrifying to Kizaki. He loved her, and every inch of hair past her shoulders made him feel more and more frightened. Her obsession was taking his security away, and he was no longer confident in his ability to protect her, to protect his family. The two of them were a team, though. They would have to protect their family together. He bumped his shoulder against hers, a little sign of fondness from when they weren’t allowed to be publicly affectionate.

Rinko gave him a small, private smile and bumped him back. ‘I love you, too,’ it said.

And then there was a crackle over the radio, a report that something was on the move. “A deer, maybe?” the officer said. “Too fast to be a person.”

Another voice, “I saw it too? Has to be another one, I’m on the other side of the park from Ueda.”

The trees shivered and shook as if it were the beginnings or aftershocks of an earthquake, and suddenly both Kizaki and Rinko felt a strange aura, like the pressure in the park had suddenly dropped.

And there he was, standing at the path into the park. He didn’t look much different from when they had interviewed him almost ten years before. Hair still a flashy shade of reddish brown, down to his chin. He was wearing a bowler hat this time, it was festooned with bits and bobs. Feathers and trinkets. Rinko swallowed hard as she spotted the tell-tale silkiness of locks of black hair against the rough felt of the hat. He wore his trophies on his head, carried them around with him always. She put her hand on her gun. “Takigawa!” she shouted.

He sauntered. He was clearly in no hurry. “Rinko~” he singsonged at her. “And Masanori as well! Were you so worried you wouldn’t leave her side? Even with all these officers around?”

Kizaki cleared his throat, palming the top of his gun. He wanted nothing more than to shoot the bastard immediately, but he was nothing if not by the book and Takigawa hadn’t done anything. Yet. He didn’t answer, just murmured into his radio. “Ueda, keep your gun on him. If he makes any false moves, shoot.”

“Ohhh. Are you sure you want to shoot me already?” Kizaki jumped. From that distance, Takigawa should not have been able to hear him talking quietly into his radio. “I’ve only just gotten here! We have so much to catch up on.”

“Are you talking about the women you killed while you were out of town?” Rinko called at him, stridently. He was still a few hundred yards away, and she wanted to make sure he heard her. “You slipped up in Yokohama. We found the body.”

“I heard about that.” He turned to the side, hands in pockets. He was wearing a long lounge-style vest, trimmed with a green fabric. As fashionable as ever. “I knew where they had to go to get their burial at sea…” His toothy grin brought thoughts of sharks to mind. “But when I moved out of town, I had to change things. Of course, it doesn’t seem like you found my Odaiba girl. And then when I moved to Himeji, well… I let them go with the currents of the inland sea and you never found most of them.” He laughed, a high-pitched insane sort of laughter that chilled both Rinko and Kizaki to the bone. “The one you did find was written off as a suicide if you can believe! I imagine you never heard about her.” Kizaki, especially, was unsettled. Takigawa had deftly avoided their questions during his initial interview. He was not one to show his hand so easily. So why now? He was admitting to the murders in front of a dozen cops he knew were there. Was he coming to turn himself in? No, his smug attitude belied that theory. Still, the more he talked, the higher Kizaki lifted his gun.

Rinko was thorough, but not that thorough. It wasn’t unusual for women to cut their hair after a bad breakup, and little details like that were few and far between in suicide reports. She shook her head, letting her hair cascade over a shoulder. “Does it matter? You’re here now. Let’s make up for lost time. Tell me, did they grow older as you did? You’re, what, thirty-something by now.”

He continued to close the distance between them, slowly but surely. “Don’t act so coy, Rinko, I’m sure you know exactly how old I am. You and I know a lot about each other, actually. Tell me, how’s Noriko? She must be almost six by now.” He smirked. “Is she taller than her daddy yet?”

“Fine, you’re thirty-two. How old are they?” She was getting impatient.

“Oh, you know what they say. I keep getting older, but they stay the same age? But don’t worry Rinko, for you I’ll make an exception.” He smirked and started to walk more purposefully, then.

Kizaki’s arm was up before he formed thought, aiming the gun at the murderer’s head. “Don’t move, Takigawa!”

He lifted one arm, as if affronted. “Come on, Masanori. We’re friends here! Call me Sora.” He kept walking. “Are you really going to shoot me? Are you that worried about what I’ll do to your wife?”

Rinko looked at Kizaki grimly, her own gun half-lifted. “Are you here to turn yourself in, Takigawa?”

“I told you, call me Sora!” There was a thread of irritation in his voice. He was a mere fifty yards from them now.

“Stop right there!” she shouted, her gun drawn and pointed. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.”

And yet he continued to approach, his pace didn’t flag for a second. Rinko’s adrenalin went into overdrive. Her pulse slowed and everything seemed to slow down for a moment. She’d warned him. The other officers had seen and heard everything. And after he was dead, she could use the hair to prove that he was the killer. There would be evidence at his home, on his body. It’s a good shot, she told herself. I’m going to take it. No sooner had the thought formed than she squeezed, feeling the impact of the bullet leave her gun at the near-exact moment that Kizaki fired as well.

Her ears ringing, she watched as the bullet traveled as if in slow motion. She felt not one moment of doubt. That is, until Takigawa disappeared.

A flash of light and the sound of a ricocheting bullet was all that she saw until a blurred shape manifested in front of her and stopped. He was inches from her face, staring with clear glee at the shock and dismay written across her features. “Now that was very rude,” he murmured, loud enough for her to hear but soft enough that Kizaki probably wouldn’t. “Aren’t we friends?”

She stumbled back, away. The smell of gunpowder was everywhere. Hadn’t she hit him? Had Kizaki? Should she have been sure?

She heard her husband’s voice over the radio. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” Too close, he was still too close. Her mind was a riot of confusion. It can’t have happened the way she saw it happen.

“What- How?” she finally said, raising her gun to point it at him again. “You think I’ll miss from this range?” she said, the iron back in her voice.

“Just try it.” He sneered, putting his arms out.

“No one’s going to argue with this, Takigawa. It’s a good shot.”

“Take the shot,” he murmured, eyes meeting hers.

And she pulled the trigger again, but this time something unbelievable happened. This time he didn’t move at all, but the air around him shimmered and his body changed, filling out into featureless planes and armor, a shining green that glowed dimly in the fading light of the sunset. The bullet ricocheted off, she imagined she heard it thunk into the dirt nearby.

“In the end, Rinko, it turned out I was the monster you thought me all along…” The monstrous figure in front of her said in a distorted version of Takigawa’s voice, tilting its head coquettishly. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

She screamed, a sound that combined fury with utter terror, until the rising note of fear overwhelmed the anger, and then she fell silent. Her eyes darkened, and a dry, cracking noise rose from her skin. Sora Takigawa smiled.  

 


End file.
